How Hard Can It Be?
by Lady Dudley
Summary: Michael got off far to easily in "Fear"


**A/N: I decided Michael got off far to easily in "Fear" so I have rectified the problem. Incidentally Jimmy is the same child from "Fear" and is now about 3 years old. The name of Jackie and Michael's daughter has no special significance, I just like the name :) Oh, and I imagine _her_ to be about 1 or so. (And just so you know, I know a couple of toddlers who are able to talk as well as Jimmy, hence why he does...)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**_How Hard Can It Be?_**

"_How hard can it be?"_

Those had been Michael's words when he had agreed to mind the children, by himself, while Jackie went out for a break. He was soon enlightened as to why Jackie had laughed at his words whilst repeatedly reminding him that their son was currently in all out toddler mode.

The problem, Michael decided, was that his son moved too fast. Every time he thought he had him cornered he would scamper away to hide under another piece of furniture. Jimmy seemed to find this game highly entertaining, if his giggles as he ran away were anything to go by. Michael, on the other hand, had tired of the 'game' very quickly. He finally cornered him under his and Jackie's bed, "Jimmy, you need to come out of there now," he said firmly.

"No!" came the little voice from under the bed, just as firmly; Michael closed his eyes for a brief moment to calm himself before opening them again. "James Alexander Jardine," Michael began again, using his son's full name in an attempt to let him know he was being serious, "if you are not out from under there in the next five minutes there will be trouble," Michael warned him.

He was going to elaborate further on his threat as he had received no answer, but was stopped by a cry from his daughter who had obviously woken up. "Right," Michael said, once again addressing the small child under the furniture, "I'm going to see to your sister, you had better be out from under there by the time I get back," he said as he got to his feet and left the room.

Either his threat had worked or Jimmy had simply gotten bored as he soon came to join Michael on the couch in the living room and watched as he fed the baby. "Daddy," Jimmy began after a moment, "will you do some finger painting with me?" he asked; Michael nodded as he shifted his daughter onto his shoulder to burp her.

"Sure, Jimmy, right after I finish with your sister," he said, Jimmy slumped back against the cushions, looking very disgruntled. He soon brightened and sat up, "What about hide and seek?" he asked hopefully.

Michael decided he had had enough of hide and seek for one day, "Not today, Jimmy, I thought you wanted to do finger painting?" he added, hoping to steer the boy away from the idea.

No such luck.

Jimmy gave his father a very good impression of his own exasperated expression, "No, Daddy, I want to play hide and seek," he reiterated.

Michael sighed, "Well not right now Jimmy, ok? I still haven't finished with your sister," he said, hoping that the delay tactic would enable Jimmy to find something else to do. He watched as Jimmy climbed off the couch and wandered off.

"Good girl," Michael said as a small burp emitted from his daughter, shifting her back down in his arms he smiled down at her. "Let's see if we can find _you_ something to do," he said, pushing up off the couch and taking her over to where some of her toys were laid out on the floor. He smiled as he watched her inspect her teddy.

The peace of the moment was interrupted by a loud crash, followed by the sound of Jimmy's toy trumpet being played loudly and with no discernable tune. Michael took a deep breath; he would have to 'thank' Robbie later for giving Jimmy the trumpet. Apparently he'd found Jimmy's comment about not wanting a sister but a trumpet incredibly amusing and had decided to get him one.

Michael failed to see the humour as the noise made his daughter start to wail. With a long suffering sigh he picked her up and tried to soothe her.

"Jimmy," he called, trying to be heard above the noise, "can you come here for a minute please?" He wasn't sure that he had been heard until the trumpet sounded like it was coming closer. Sure enough Jimmy appeared in the living room, trumpet in hand.

"Yes Daddy?" the toddler asked innocently, Michael reminded himself that it wasn't Jimmy's fault that he had a trumpet in the first place and that it had hardly been his intention to make his sister cry. "Do you think you could do something else, Nerys _(Neh-reece)_ doesn't like the sound the trumpet makes," Michael said, relieved that his daughter's cries seemed to be dying down now that the trumpeting had stopped.

Jimmy thought for a moment, he was reluctant to give up his trumpet playing as it seemed that it finally meant he had his father's attention squarely on himself again. He brightened as he remembered a suggestion that his father had seemed to approve of, "Can I do some finger painting now?"

Michael visibly relaxed, "Yes, Jimmy, you can do some finger painting," he said as Nerys' cries ceased altogether. Replacing her back on the mat with her toys he went to help Jimmy get the paints and some paper.

~*~

Feeling a trifle guilty at leaving Michael alone with the children for so long, especially as Jimmy had been in one of his moods and Michael had just finished solving a particularly gruelling case, Jackie dreaded what she might find when she got back.

She was surprised, therefore, to enter the house and find it almost suspiciously silent. She checked the bedrooms first, shaking her head when she peeped into Jimmy's room and found the upturned toy box. At the sound of her son's giggle she went to the living room, quietly so that she wouldn't be noticed.

She smiled at the scene that greeted her. Nerys was playing happily in the corner, burbling to herself as she crawled about following a ball. Whilst in the middle of the room, Michael and Jimmy were sitting completely surrounded by butcher's paper and paints. Her smile turned to a chuckle as she realised that they were finger painting. That this meant the paint was on their hands appeared to be completely lost on both her husband and her son as both had paint through their hair and a couple of smudges on their faces.

Both Michael and Jimmy looked up at her with identical grins. "Mummy, look what Daddy and I made!" Jimmy greeted her, lifting up several pages of squiggles, handprints and splotches. Jackie smiled at him as she came further into the room, "They're beautiful, but I think it's time to get cleaned up for lunch," she told him.

She watched as Jimmy scampered off to the bathroom before she turned back to Michael, "That goes for you to, Picasso," she teased.

Michael stuck his tongue out at her as he got to his feet, following his son to the bathroom. Jackie smiled to herself as she listened to the sounds of splashing water and laughter coming from the bathroom. "You better not be making a mess in there!" she called out as she picked up Nerys.

"We're not!" Jimmy and Michael replied in unison, both sounding innocent, she shook her head as another splash and more laughter was heard. "I don't know what we're going to do with those two," Jackie said to Nerys as she made her way to the bathroom, wary of what she might find when she got there.

She was not surprised to find both Jimmy and Michael, both sopping wet and looking a little sheepish, surrounded by puddles of water.


End file.
